Abducted
by Maellowyn
Summary: Ancient Britain had always been a dangerous place. After Vortigern's defeat it had also been not quite as peaceful, as Merlin would describe it - at least not for Mab, the Queen of the Old Ways.
1. Chapter 1

The arrow hit her. A dull impact. Then a fire spreading in and on her whole backside. Mab's knees gave in and she broke down. She barely could breathe. The whole world was spinning around her. Although she already clutched her hands into the sandy earth she wondered why it seemed like an unreachable distance to her. Irritation and pain crossed her mind. Then she finally collapsed fading thankfully into unconsciousness.

The men came out of the trees. Plumbatae and arrows had been thrown not only at Mab. The Pictish warriors around her lay dead or badly wounded in their blood. They had belonged to a tribe from the north. The last few months they had tried to invade on the old northern frontiers. Even now that Rome had deserted its province the small kingdoms, reigned by warlords, tried to keep their power and independence. Most of them had also converted to Christianity. Not all of them of course, like Vortigern. But the men of Aurelianus had. He was the brother of Uther the Pendragon. Even though he was the younger one of the two, he seemed far more experienced and battle-scarred. His dark hair framed a weather-beaten face. He had sharp features and was of strong stature. Uther may have been the older one and the heir apparent, but it was Aurelianus who fought his battles to success. And after their defeat of Vortigern, they had tried to clean their territories from any pagan tribes. So it had only been a matter of time when it first came to a confrontation between the Scoti, Picti and the Brythons. These struggles now kept on for quite a time.

Aurelianus kicked one of the warriors to the side. His face was painted in the usual blue patterns. He had his sword still in a tight grip, his face frozen in the mask of death. Blood was still dripping from his gaping wound where the arrow stuck in his chest. Arelianus' eyes moved from one corpse to another. "Where the devil, do all these barbarians still come from?" he muttered. He wished his brother would care more for this. But since the disaster of Cornwall, when Uther had tried to conquer Gorlois' castle and wife, his brother had more and more turned into a madman. Selfish and corrupted he now dwelt in his main hall at Cair-Guent – later known as Winchester. And it was his task now to secure the borders for the sake of their country and for the sake of god.

"Their camp must be very close, Sire!", one of his man said. Aurelianus nodded. In the moment he turned to leave the massacre behind, he saw her - a woman among the warriors. That was nothing unusual, for there were always some of them who were great fighters for their tribes. But this one was strange, for the woman looked nothing like the men around her. She probably belonged to a different tribe. Maybe they had tried to form an alliance against them. So they had to hurry. They had to find the camp before the other tribe would send more troops. He bent over her taking a closer look. She twitched her fingers for a short moment. She was still alive. That was nothing Aurelianus was pleased with. He could finish her of now, or he could make prisoners. "She is just another heathen, Sire", the general said. "Shall we capture some barbarians today?", he asked knowing his Sire would consider it, once they had found the Pictish camp. Aurelianus thought a moment about it. Of course they could catch quite a few this time, selling them to Roman traders in Gaul. This would bring them some income for the emptying treasure chambers of the king. But a wounded hostage? Perhaps she wouldn't even survive to make a good price on the slavery marked. But nevertheless he had never seen a barbarian woman as beautiful as this before. Maybe he could sell her to some of the new Frankish aristocrats in Gaul; they would pay a fair price for a beauty like this. He decided to give it a try. And on his signal the men took her onto the carriage.

Many other heathens were slain and some of them were caught this day by Aurelianus' troops. Some women, some young boys and children bound in chains were brought to Cair-Ebrauc by their carriage. They had killed the men and captured the rest. It had been a good day, Aurelianus decided. He sent healers to those of the wounded prisoners, letting them tend the more serious injuries. Dead prisoners were bad slaves to sell. In a few days he would load them all onto a ship with destination Gaul.


	2. Chapter 2

"But I don't understand… why do I have to learn those boring stuff?", Arthur - the meanwhile adolescent unknown king – complained brooding over a parchment of Suetonius _**De vita Caesarum**_. Merlin sighed. Sometimes it was hard to enthuse the boy for his lessons. "Because it is important to know about the past.", Merlin answered. "But what do I care for former emperors?", the boy asked. "And into the bargain in Latin!", he shouted. Merlin chuckled. "Believe me my boy; it is only for your best. Only by seeing the past mistakes of the so glorious leaders we can learn to make a better future." But Arthur only stared unbelievingly at him. "Merlin, I am a stable boy" Now finally a laugh got caught of Merlin. Of course, how should the boy know the destiny he had planned for him? Directly after his birth Arthur had been given to Sir Hector a lower cavalryman. Hector and his wife had been raising the king together with their own son Kay, without ever telling him his true heritance. Just sometimes Arthur wondered, why a simple boy like him was taught by his own private teacher - especially after this teacher was also connected with the king's court. There even were rumors about Merlin being involved in the battle of Dinas Emrys where Vortigern had found his death.

"Ok, you are right.", Merlin stated, "it is enough for today. You still have to help your brother with the wood chopping " "Wonderful… out of the frying pan into the fire.", Arthur muttered and took off. And as if the older man wanted to anger him a little more, he called: "And don't forget, next week we'll read Livius' _**Ab Urbe Condita Libri**_!" The boy was at a loss for words, and turned around again searching for an adequate curse, but Merlin had already gone.

* * *

The same time Frik was busy tidying up the crystal chambers of Mabs realm. This had been his activity since noon. Now he felt sun setting behind the walls of their cavern. He felt awkward about Mab. She had not yet returned. He knew her mission was not the easiest one. She had left in the morning with the aim of finding new allies. She had to find more people who would follow the Old Ways. But this had become even more difficult the last decades - especially in the Romanized parts of Britain. There were only a few tribes left, consisting of people who still where connected to the roots of the British island and its old pagan ways. A few days ago she had mentioned her decision to him. She wanted to gain the Picts and the Scots for their cause. After Vortigern's defeat they needed someone else who would fight against Merlin and Uther.

He hoped Mab and the Pictish leader would come to an agreement, for her mood had grown increasingly worse the more influence she had lost. He guessed this mission had proved more difficult than they had hoped. The chieftain probably was a tough negotiant. Maybe this was why she had not returned yet. Even though she never stayed away from her realm for longer than a few days, which was because of the strength it gave to her. He assumed that these negotiations would keep her up for a few days. _Perfect_, he thought considering the work he had done today. "I guess that's an evening off.", he said aloud as if he expected a tingle by his master. When no answer came he whistled satisfied and made his way to his chambers. There he poured himself a goblet of fine Roman vine, seated himself on his settee and read quite a while until he became tired. He fell asleep over his parchment not bothering himself anymore with thoughts about his duties.


	3. Chapter 3

**_*******Thanks to my few but faithful readers for reviewing************_**

* * *

Abominable anguish greeted Mab when she awoke again. A horrible dragging pain on her backside; she felt the flesh tear apart, when someone pulled the arrow from her wound. During her transport from the battle field to _Cair-Ebrauc_ she had been only semiconscious. Now someone was treating her injuries. She shortly wondered if she had been found by other tribesmen. A firm hand pressed a soaked cloth on her wound, a cry burst out of her throat. She tried to wind herself away but this only increased the hurting. Quickly all strength left her body again and she fell back into unconsciousness.

The healer continued. He treated the wounds of all the captured. Most of them had resisted and fought. They all looked at him in disgust and hatred but there was no use in defying him. They had been brought inside the fort. Aurelianus had left guards with them. There was no way escaping as bound and watched as they were. So the healer did not worry about his own safety, nor did he worry much about theirs. It was still quite normal for good situated families to keep slaves. Christian or not, the Romans had shown the British people the comfortable and the lucrative sides of this ancient habit. Sometimes, the rivaling barbarian tribes themselves had sold their prisoners or even their own people to the Romans, promising themselves benefits by that.

He heard voices coming closer. Aurelianus himself was giving instructions to one of his messengers. When they approached the healer, he asked, "In what condition are they?" A last look on his patients the healer answered, "Well, well, indeed Sire! Just a few scratches they have." But his master gave him a questioning look. "Well of course except of her.", he mentioned towards Mab. "It is a wonder that she is still alive with a severe wound like that." Mab was moaning slightly as if she had heard it. But actually she was not aware of her surroundings still fighting against the pain. "But I wouldn't worry about her. Those barbarians are quite tenacious Sire!", he affirmed to Aurelianus. "Give her a night and there will be no problems with the transport." "Good, good, we can't afford to wait any longer.", the commander said; "The next ships with traders will arrive in three weeks, then we have to be on the market in _Durnovaria_."

* * *

Mab didn't return that night, nor the following nights. At first Frik had been sure that there would be nothing to worry about. Actually he had been quite happy with being on his own instead of getting stressed by his mistress. He had enjoyed the peace but after several days he wondered why he had not heard anything of his Queen. Not only that she hadn't even given him further instructions or tasks to fulfill, she also had not returned for a single night to her realm. The latter was the most distressing one. She needed the energy her crystals and the earth of Britain herself could give her, especially in times of low faith. She never stayed away for too long, but more than a week? That was most uncommon of her. He wondered if he should do something. She had wanted to go into the _**Yr Hen Ogledd**_ – the old north. There in the region of Brough she had wanted to meet with an ambassador of the Picts. What could keep her there? Perhaps she was in need of his assistance. At least it was him to be the diplomatically skilled one. He decided to venture north. There he would try to find her, either way, by himself or with help of the people there.


	4. Chapter 4

_*******************For Arwen and Bella***************************_

* * *

Mab hadn't been in Brough anymore. After the night in Cair Ebrauc she and the Pictish slaves had been brought southwards to the coast. For two weeks they had traveled through the country. It had taken her several days to realize, what was happening to her. Firstly she had been overwhelmed by the pain. After a while it had become bearable but still horrible. It was then Mab gained back her consciousness and it was then, when she realized the bonds which were keeping here from moving. She had realized that she had not been the only one captured. They were brought somewhere, and even if she had not known where to, she knew to what purpose. Their captors had not let them out of the carriage. And only for bringing them food and water they had made contact with the prisoners. Mab still had been too weak for anything, but in her thoughts she had already been desperately searching for a way out. This couldn't be - at last she was Mab, Queen of the old ways, and now she had been caught by mere humans? She still wondered how it had gotten this far. How was it, that she hadn't noticed the ambush? And why could a single damn arrow hurt so much?

They had reached Durnovaria. This was one of the few cities, which had remained in its wealthy Roman style. It had thermae, aqueducts and amphitheatres and it was an important market place, cause of its connection to the sea. Here the slaves were brought from their carriage into another fort. It was the fort of the old _**Second Augustan Legion**_, a solid building, where the prisoners were brought into a gaol. When two of the soldiers of Arelianus drew Mab from the carriage into the cell, she made her first attempt of resisting. She was scratching, struggling and screaming. But she couldn't overcome her bonds, nor could she impress the strong knights. And every time she tried to summon her concentration for a spell, she felt the burning on her neck and lost her concentration again. She had never been injured before. She felt like Aphrodite in the Trojan War. The pain was entirely new to her and worst of all, it took all ability of performing magic from her. She simply couldn't concentrate enough for this. She could not even make herself vanish or invisible for escape. Put in a nutshell – Mab seemed absolutely helpless.

* * *

When Frik arrived in Brough, he had no idea how to look for Mab. It had taken him a week to get there, for it was not possible for him to travel long distances by magic without Mab's aid. But she obviously could be no support for him now. The passengers he asked either knew nothing, or they instantly made the sign of the cross when they saw him. Not because he looked like a monster, oh no, he had chosen a good form, but because of the person he was asking after. After a while he had heard of the Pictish raid a few weeks ago. The people told him proudly how the king's men had defended their country. The Picts had been slain and defeated, only a few had returned behind the borders to their own kingdom. So Frik went on, moving far north he sought out for the Pictish leader. Reaching the kingdom of _**Ystrad Clud**_ he finally believed himself at his goal. There he found the Brythonic king Tudwall fighting the Pictish leader Cailtram. What foolish allies they would make, he thougt, fighting their little battle without knowing the real enemy. But still he made his way to Cailtram, in an unwatched moment he came unseen to the warlords tent.

A strong and proud warrior he was. Cailtram seemed twice as tall as Frik. The gnome asked himself why he had the foolish thought of consulting this man. But nevertheless he had his mission. But the leader did not seemed pleased when he heard gnome ask him about the whereabouts of Mab. "You tell me little twit!", he spat. "I sent my best men for speaking with your mistress, and now I all what I hear is, that they are dead!" "What?", Frik squeaked and nearly jumped backwards in fear. "She betrayed us to the British king!" The warlord was outrageous. _Ok, think diplomatically Frik_, he still had to find out where Mab could be. "Oh no she never would, we despise the Christian king!", the gnome affirmed to Cailtram, "She would fight him till death!" The warlord calmed down a bit, but he still seemed unconvinced. "So then tell me, how comes it, that our camp was plundered, our warriors were slain and our women hauled off?" "Hauled off? You mean the women were abducted?"Frik's face went white. The warlords continued: "They have taken them and soon they will be sold on their big markets!"


	5. Chapter 5

********** I am sorry for being so lazy, but you know the UNI and the work... So here another little chap, I hope, that I soon can provide more. Special thanks to Bella and Arwen and a warm greeting to Halewyn's Lady and all other new readers. ************

* * *

The iron bars were slam shut. And Mab sat there in the cell, breathing heavily. This couldn't be. She was exhausted, but firmness could be seen in her face. The other captured women just looked at her pityingly. "Don't you think you can escape", the oldest of them said. "They brought us in a well guarded fort. There are many armed men." Mab just snorted. Men. They were just men. But though they had captured a fairy queen not even knowing what treasure they were holding. And now she even had to share a cell with those stinking barbarian women. For the moment she could do nothing but wait. She placed herself into the far corner, leaning on the wall she closed her eyes trying to ignore her surroundings, trying to focus on her powers. But no, there still was a feeling that was always penetrating her thoughts – the stabbing pain in her back. It didn't work. She would have to rely on the time, when her wound was healed or at least when the pain faded. But who could tell how long it would take her? She couldn't tell from her experience. Three weeks and still it had not gotten much better. She decided that she probably had to use other methods to get out of this situation. Maybe she could convince the leader of those men who had taken them. They had to be men from Uther's kingdom. So maybe she could make a bargain with them. On the other hand she knew it was impossible to come at peace with those Christians. She had to try her best, so she waited for the guards to return. But the minutes got longer and became hours. The more of them passed the more it seemed that the walls around her came nearer and nearer. She could imagine how Merlin must have felt, when he had been thrown into Vortigern's oubliette.

* * *

Meanwhile the city of Durnovaria was vividly busy. Ships were entering the haven. Merchants met on the market place preparing their wares. Goods from all parts of the kingdom were brought by the British traders and continental goods like wine, cloth and fruits were debarked by traders from Byzantium or Gaul. In the afternoon the marked was filled with the noise of many bargainers and chafferers. Every man tried to sell his goods for the best price. Aurelianus wandered down the lanes between the market stands. At several blacksmiths he stopped over, inspecting the swords, lances and armors which were kept for sale. He would buy the new arming for his troops, the payment would be provided by the selling of their captives. In the center of the crowded place, workers were constructing the podium for the public sale of the slaves. It was time to look after his own wares, Aurelianus decided. He went to for a last check on the prisoners.

* * *

Mab was startled from her reverie when the gates of her cell were thrown open. Three servicemen entered followed by a man, who looked superior according to his armor. The later was scanning one after another of the prisoners. Then he gave commands and his lackeys were obeying with "Yes, my Lord". They were taking the selected persons and were handing them to the guards waiting outside the cell, who brought them away. For a moment Mab watched this suspiciously. Then she realized what was going on. _Oh no_, she thought not _with me._ She reasoned that the one giving commands must be the one person in charge. She spun directly at him, with clenched fists she called: "How dare you to do this? Have you any idea who I am?" Before she could reach him, two of the soldiers got hold of her stopping her with firm grip. The third punched her into the stomach. All air was pressed out of her lungs and if she would not have been held by the two others, she would have collapsed. The third was just attempting for another hit, when he was ordered back by his Lord. Aurelianus took a closer look. The woman they had found among the Pictish warriors. With a grin on his face he asked mockingly: "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?" Mab had to blink the tears in her eyes away. Then she looked up and with all possible grace she answered: "I am Queen Mab of the Old Ways." To her distress Aurelianus had no idea what that meant. He had been raised in the Romano-Christian ways, he held no knowledge of the old Celtic myths. "So you are a Queen…I guess of the Picts, or of which tribe?" Mab was indignant. But what could she answer? "No no you don't understand," she said, "I don't belong to a tribe – I am a Queen to all the pagan folks of this country!" Aurelianus laughed. He had heard many excuses and pleadings to this day, but this was just the top of it. "That I believe is not really a reason for me to let you go.", he stated, "First – my brother is the only king I obey and second – we are at war with all pagans." He nodded towards his men. They tightened their grip on Mab and started to drag Mab out of the cell. "Wait!", she screamed, "Wait! I know your brother is king Uther!" Aurelianus looked questioning. "And?" "His consultant is a friend of mine", she declared hoping that her connection to Merlin could be of use now. But the lord seemed unbelieving. "Don't tell me you – a warrior Queen from the north have anything to do with my brothers court.", he stated. "But I know his wizard – Merlin!", she nearly pleaded. Aurelianus snorted. Of course he had heard of this man, everyone in this kingdom had. He wouldn't be surprised if the reputation of that man had even reached the continent by now. This woman was making something up just to save her neck. "I will hear none of your excuses.", he decided and to his men he said: "Take her outside now."


End file.
